The shadowed morning trail of hearts and scents,
the salts of hellos and the salts of goodbyes,
mirrors to me, mirrors to you,
In the days and in the nights,
in our movement and in our stillness
there are quiet words yet aplenty to be said.
But not now, not tonight, not tomorrow, not yet,
let the echoes fall where they will.
I wrote this poem when I was spending a lot of time traveling. At the time, Lyn and I were just married and the thought, and fact, of being away from her were hard. It still is on the rare occasion that I travel without her.
Thank you for reading And so we will. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it and I humbly appreciate your visiting the Book of Pain. As always, I look forward to your comments.
© 2013 by John Etheridge; all rights reserved. This poem and accompanying notes are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. This applies to all original work found on this site, unless noted otherwise. The attribution claimed under the license is: © 2013 by John Etheridge, https://bookofpain.wordpress.com.